


every single night pray the sun'll rise

by rainbowagnes



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post Season 2, Prompts & drabbles, Scars, Showers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-23 17:11:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11994267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowagnes/pseuds/rainbowagnes
Summary: A collection of Mattelektra prompts of all varieties. Contact me if you want anything written!1. Post Season 2 Shower Prompt





	every single night pray the sun'll rise

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Halsey's "Coming Down," a song so perfect it's basically Mattelektra fanfic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from @ourmattelektra on tumblr (THANK YOU SO MUCH!), who sent me the following:   
> "I have a Matt x Elektra prompt (hope you still take prompts btw) so I have this in mind so it would be post defender when they are reunited again and they would touch each other's scars like in dds2 and Elektra would "show" Matt the new scar on her abdomen. It could maybe lead to a kiss." 
> 
> This was a detailed and DELIGHTFUL prompt to get, and good, painful fun to write! I hope you enjoy it!

He know her by his fingers. 

His world is blurry. People are blurry. Radar tells him about hard edges, walls and the corners of furniture. People are a conglomerate of more specific senses, heat and the roar of pulses, the click of teeth and the smell of skin, blood, salt. 

He could find her in the crowd and the night and at the end of everything. The heart that never wavers, the breath that hitches at the sight of beauty no matter how jaded she pretends to be, the dusty mineral scent of expensive makeup, the fingers that tap and fidget because there's always a little too much of everything to fit inside her compact, studiedly elegant form.

It's all etched in his memory, the year of bliss he seems to have been granted as consolation for the decade of hell to follow. (And she WAS that year. She was every one of his memories, even the ones where she wasn't physically there, her presence marked by the smell of her perfume and all the bras and sighted-person textbooks she left lying around. God, she was a fucking mess. A storm of a woman to smash up against Matt's neatly ordered hell of a life.) 

Having her here in front of him is something else entirely. 

The water runs across them, bracingly hot, a tonic to the freezing feeling that feels like it exists in the marrow of his bones. A second baptism from the dust of Midtown. 

His hands are on her body, fingers splayed against the lithe curve of her waist, the swell of muscles at the top of her arm. Her skin is familiar, even if his only recent memories of it all seem to involve her bleeding out on her bed, on a rooftop. It's hot, not just from the warmth of the water but from within. Whatever brought Elektra back to life seems to have made her a little more human than normal, a little more alive- faster, stronger, warmer.

(One day, he's going to pour Father Lantom a serious glass of whiskey and they're going to talk about this. Resurrection. Until then, Matt doesn't even want to consider the theological significance of having a- a what? A girlfriend? A lover? Neither term is enough for the enormity of what Elektra is- die and rise again.) 

Her hand finds the back of his and guides it around her waist till his fingers feel a long, raised strip of skin. 

"New scar?" 

"One of the physical ones." 

He runs his thumb across it feels her relax into his touch. Scars have never made sense to him. They feel too soft to contain the memories of the pain that creates them. 

He tips his head forward so his forehead is against hers, lifts a hand to fiddle with the wet ribbons of her hair. She's close. So close, after ten years of nothing to mark her place. So real, the shared pain of their pasts tethering them together, binding him to her in a way he's never been bound to anyone else. 

"Where I run-" he begins, but she raises a finger and presses it to his lips to shut him up. 

"I run with you." 

He's never been more sure of a promise in his life. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave me Mattelektra prompts either as a comment or a question on my tumblr (@rinsantago) I don't do NSFW but I do love AUs of ever kind! 
> 
> Also welcoming Rebelcaptain, Finnrey, Roserey, and Bellarke (or most other ships of the type, just ask!) though I won't post them in this collection! Don't hesitate if you want character-specific fics, friendship/family fic, or any other variety of non-ship fic either.


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